Captive Study
by Eighthnote
Summary: ITEX LABORATORIES - SECTOR 14 - CLASSIFIED - AVIAN-HUMAN HYBRID CAPTIVE STUDY - Day 39 : "Subject repeats nonsensical words and sounds. 'Angel. Gazzy. Nudge. Iggy. Fang.' Possible mind deterioration." Teensy bit of Fax too. It just fit.
1. Chapter 1

**So...Here I am. I really really wanted to write something - kind of weird for me. I usually prefer to read. But I digress. This just kinda came to me. And I'll admit, it was different in my head. And I didn't plan the ending. I got outvoted by a friend who I was reading this to. Yea, one to one, I know, but she's bigger than me. I might get hurt. I digress _again_. So. Not much more to say up here, except that I know I got Max's wingspan wrong, I'm pretending it's a few years into the future and she's grown. Quite a bit - mutant bird genes and all. So, without further yammering - Captive Study.**

**Dislaimer : I don't own any recognizable characters, names, or the word 'cactus'. I do own Doctor Ong but if you want to steal him be my guest. Not like I need him.**

**ITEX LABORATORIES**

**SECTOR 14 **

**CLASSIFIED**

**AVIAN-HUMAN HYBRID CAPTIVE STUDY**

**_DAY 39_**

_Subject silent and still. Continues to refuse sustena_-

Dr. Ong's fingers froze over the keys, weary eyes locked on the screen to his left. Displayed on the large monitor was the feed from a camera, focused on a lone girl in a small white cell. Her slender figure was curled tightly in on itself, her head down. Long, limp blonde hair shrouded too-thin shoulders that shivered in the cold room.

The intelligent scientist had been assigned the task of documenting the behavior of the imprisoned girl, and at first it had been easy for him to remain objective - after all, it was just an expirament in a box to him. And it had been easy to see her as nothing but an animal as she'd screamed and yelled insults, punching and kicking at the walls of the tiny cage.

By the second day she was slamming her fragile wings against the walls as well. With a wingspan of over sixteen feet, the four foot by three foot cell was minuscule; the powerful appendages could barely begin to unfurl. The insults continued - the fiery blonde had even taught Ong a few new choice words.

The third day, the prisoner was cold and aloof, snide and sarcastic. She'd stopped all the kicking and beating and had seated herself on the floor of the empty room, leaning against the blank white wall and stretching her legs out as far as the restricted space would allow.

The middle of the second week found her pressed into a corner, hugging herself. Her glare had not diminished and neither had the fight glowing in her dark eyes. Even through the camera, Ong had seen the determined fires gleaming in those dark depths. That was the first time he'd dreamed of her.

A week later the subject was already looking too thin and she'd stopped talking for the most part; the exceptions being when she muttered in her light and fitful sleep. By now the scientist was finding it increasingly difficult to think of her as just another experiment, just a stupid animal.

Not too many days after his first nightmare starring the hybrid girl, she'd started talking again. 'Angel. Gazzy. Nudge. Iggy. Fang,' repeated over and over again in a soft, longing voice. Nonsensical words and sounds - what on Earth was a gazzy? Ong recorded that he worried the subject's mind was deteriorating.

At the end of the fourth week only one word escaped those cracked, pale lips. It echoed around the empty, tiny room. 'Fang.' He was struck by thoughts of his own daughter then - she'd just learned to say his name and spoke it constantly. It was how she, the prisoner, said that word. As if her whole world rested on whoever it described. It had to be a person, there was no doubt. Someone important to the blonde girl. Ong could barely bring himself to type his report as he looked upon the winged teen. Her slender, fine bones could be seen clearly in her face, arms, and legs and - under her paper dress - her ribs and hips were jutting out sharply. The feathers on her large wings hung loose and dirty, most had already fallen to litter the pristine white floor. However Ong was most worried by her eyes. The fires were still there, but they barely flickered in the dark pools, extinguished by despair.

Ong sighed again and dropped his hands into his lap. He hadn't slept in several nights, too plagued by guilt and uncertainty. The girl in the cell had not stirred in several days but the monitors showed she still lived - barely. She was dieing, he knew beyond doubt. As soon as tomorrow he would come to his station to find nothing but a corpse. He was pulled from his despairing thoughts by movement on the screen. The girl shifted slightly before struggling to stand. Weak knees strained to lift her emaciated form and painfully skinny arms braced against the blank, cold walls. Finally, after several heartbreaking minutes, she was standing. Her wings hung limply behind her - she was too weak to lift them and tuck them at her back like she had the first weeks of her captivity. She lifted her head slowly and dark eyes locked onto the camera. Ong squirmed in his seat, sure she could see him and haunted by the emptiness in the once firey pools. For the first time, she spoke directly to him.

"So I guess You're there, watching me. Whoever _You_ are. But You don't know anything about me, do you? Well, I guess You know about what they did to me. You know about how fast I can fly, how strong I am, how long I can go without eating. But You don't know me. I'm Maximum Ride - leader of my flock. I'm supposed to save the world," here she laughed, "but I won't. I don't know why I'm talking to you. I just..." And to his amazement, tears began to slip from her eyes down her cheeks. Not once in the month she'd been prisoner had she cried. She turned her face away in a feeble attempt to hide them and she looked so broken, so dead. She would be soon enough. Ong wished he could comfort her - talk to her, anything! - but his orders were strict - no contact.

Hours passed. The girl - Maximum - sat in the corner again. It was as if she'd given up, the tears hadn't stopped yet; they stained the dirty white paper gown she was clothed in. Her heart monitors were slow, inconsistent. There wasn't any hope - she wasn't dieing from any physical ailment - and he knew it. She'd resigned herself, she'd quit hoping, quit trying. Her beautiful eyes slid closed on the tears and her lips parted. For what was undoubtedly the last time, she murmured, "_Fang_."

Ong watched, morbidly fascinated, as her heart rate slowed. An hour passed, then two. A sudden noise caused the man to jump and fall from his chair in shock. It happened fast, too fast for the scientist to react. The door of the lab was kicked open and suddenly a thin, muscled arm was around his throat. His jaw dropped in shock as four children filed in the doorway, tired and dirty but clearly determined. A dark, African-American girl hurried to the computer he'd just been at, pulling in her mocha-colored wings and pushing frizzy black hair from her face. Two blonde children stood nearby, staring at the girl on the screen.

The youngest one, a girl with curls blinked back tears from blue eyes and murmured,"Max..." She looked so cherubic there, her white wings like an angel's. Suddenly, everything clicked. 'Angel. Gazzy. Nudge. Iggy. Fang.' The names of her - what had she called them? - flock.

Suddenly, a tall, dark boy was in his face, features twisted in rage and determination. Black eyes glared out at him from behind a fringe of hair. Dr. Ong knew without doubt that this was Fang. He had to be. It was in the anger, in the way his expression changed as he turned to look at the screen showing the imprisoned Maximum. "Let. Me. In. There." His husky voice was rough with anger and Ong nodded quickly. "Ig, let the man go." The arm around the scientist's neck suddenly vanished, only for his wrists to be roughly pulled behind his back by two long, pale hands. Without a word, he was steered to the computer console where the black girl was typing desperately.

"Fang she's dieing. I don't know why, she should be fine but she's not and -"

"Nudge he's gonna open the door, watch him and make sure he doesn't do anything fishy." In a second, Fang was over at the door, eyes locked on the white metal. The pale hands released Ong and the man quickly began opening the program for the door. In seconds he had typed in his password, and the countdown for the door had started.

_3...2...1..._

The door opened with a _woosh_ and cold air spilled into the lab room. Fang was already inside, Angel and the younger boy following him. The girl Fang had called Nudge hurried after them. Suddenly, Dr. Ong was whirled around and pressed against in the wall. He found himself staring into cloudy blue, unseeing eyes. Unable to stare into the eyes of someone so close to the girl he'd so cruelly watched suffer the last few weeks, the scientist turned his head to look at the screen showing what was happening in the cell.

Inside, the dark boy was carefully lifting the girl named Max, cradling her unmoving form against his chest. Nudge had tears in her eyes and the blonde boy - Gazzy? - was holding the youngest as she cried. Iggy turned toward the doorway as Fang walked in with the ex-captive.

"Iggy," he called as he set her down very gently on the floor. Gazzy and Nudge quickly replaced the blind hybrid holding Dr. Ong as the tall strawberry-blonde dropped down beside the unconscious girl.

Minutes passed slowly before he sat up. "Malnutrition, but not enough to kill," he choked on the word 'kill', "her...I don't know, it's like -"

"Damn it Max. Never took you for a quitter," Fang suddenly growled, and without any warning he grabbed the blonde by the shoulders and shoved his lips onto hers. For a few moments Ong and the others - excepting Iggy - stared in shock. Fang pulled away only to kiss her nose, forehead, and eyes. "Wake up Max, I know you're still in there. If you don't come back I may not be able to keep Gaz and Iggy from blowing up-"

The corner of Max's lips turned up and Gazzy punched the air in victory, completely forgetting he was supposed to be holding Dr. Ong captive. Angel squealed in excitement and Nudge started talking, only for Iggy to put a hand over her mouth. Fang's lips twitched. "She's gonna be fine guys. Let's get out of here." Then, he turned to the scientist and stared at him with hatred. But then something softened in his gaze and the avian-boy turned away, leading his flock out to freedom.

Dr. Ong rushed to the door just in time to see the five take off, Fang still carrying Max though her boney arms were around his neck now. He watched their powerful wings beat and carry them far, far away. With the smallest of smiles, he whispered "Good luck, Maximum Ride."

**It's me again. Hi. So originally Max was just gonna die, y'know? But my friend hates sad endings. So there's like an almost fluff ending. Almost. And nobody died. I don't like it. Oh well. So review. Not gonna beg, threaten, or bribe. Okay, maybe threaten. Review or I'll make my cat take your face off. Yea. I wouldn't be scared either.**

**-A.**


	2. Alternate Ending

**So this was my original ending. I really felt like the other one just didn't fit with the story. Too cliche and silly. So here's the original lame ending. Uhm, it's pretty much the same as before up to the third to last paragraph. Just savin' you from having to read it again. Really, this isn't all that great. But here's the alternate ending!**

**ITEX LABORATORIES **

**SECTOR 14 **

**CLASSIFIED **

**AVIAN-HUMAN HYBRID CAPTIVE STUDY**

_DAY 39_

_Subject silent and still. Continues to refuse sustena-_

Dr. Ong's fingers froze over the keys, weary eyes locked on the screen to his left. Displayed on the large monitor was the feed from a camera, focused on a lone girl in a small white cell. Her slender figure was curled tightly in on itself, her head down. Long, limp blonde hair shrouded too-thin shoulders that shivered in the cold room.

The intelligent scientist had been assigned the task of documenting the behavior of the imprisoned girl, and at first it had been easy for him to remain objective - after all, it was just an expirament in a box to him. And it had been easy to see her as nothing but an animal as she'd screamed and yelled insults, punching and kicking at the walls of the tiny cage.

By the second day she was slamming her fragile wings against the walls as well. With a wingspan of over sixteen feet, the four foot by three foot cell was minuscule; the powerful appendages could barely begin to unfurl. The insults continued - the fiery blonde had even taught Ong a few new choice words.

The third day, the prisoner was cold and aloof, snide and sarcastic. She'd stopped all the kicking and beating and had seated herself on the floor of the empty room, leaning against the blank white wall and stretching her legs out as far as the restricted space would allow.

The middle of the second week found her pressed into a corner, hugging herself. Her glare had not diminished and neither had the fight glowing in her dark eyes. Even through the camera, Ong had seen the determined fires gleaming in those dark depths. That was the first time he'd dreamed of her.

A week later the subject was already looking too thin and she'd stopped talking for the most part; the exceptions being when she muttered in her light and fitful sleep. By now the scientist was finding it increasingly difficult to think of her as just another experiment, just a stupid animal.

Not too many days after his first nightmare starring the hybrid girl, she'd started talking again. 'Angel. Gazzy. Nudge. Iggy. Fang,' repeated over and over again in a soft, longing voice. Nonsensical words and sounds - what on Earth was a gazzy? Ong recorded that he worried the subject's mind was deteriorating.

At the end of the fourth week only one word escaped those cracked, pale lips. It echoed around the empty, tiny room. 'Fang.' He was struck by thoughts of his own daughter then - she'd just learned to say his name and spoke it constantly. It was how she, the prisoner, said that word. As if her whole world rested on whoever it described. It had to be a person, there was no doubt. Someone important to the blonde girl. Ong could barely bring himself to type his report as he looked upon the winged teen. Her slender, fine bones could be seen clearly in her face, arms, and legs and - under her paper dress - her ribs and hips were jutting out sharply. The feathers on her large wings hung loose and dirty, most had already fallen to litter the pristine white floor. However Ong was mostly worried about her eyes. The fires were still there, but they barely flickered in the dark pools, extinguished by despair.

Ong sighed again and dropped his hands into his lap. He hadn't slept in several nights, too plagued by guilt and uncertainty. The girl in the cell had not stirred in several days but the monitors showed she still lived - barely. She was dieing, he knew beyond doubt. As soon as tomorrow he would come to his station to find nothing but a corpse. He was pulled from his despairing thoughts by movement on the screen. The girl shifted slightly before struggling to stand. Weak knees strained to lift her emaciated form and painfully skinny arms braced against the blank, cold walls. Finally, after several heartbreaking minutes, she was standing. Her wings hung limply behind her - she was too weak to lift them and tuck them at her back like she had the first weeks of her captivity. She lifted her head slowly and dark eyes locked onto the camera. Ong squirmed in his seat, sure she could see him and haunted by the emptiness in the once fiery pools. For the first time, she spoke directly to him.

"So I guess You're there, watching me. Whoever You are. But You don't know anything about me, do you? Well, I guess You know about what they did to me. You know about how fast I can fly, how strong I am, how long I can go without eating. But You don't know me. I'm Maximum Ride - leader of my flock. I'm supposed to save the world," here she laughed, "but I won't. I don't know why I'm talking to you. I just..." And to his amazement, tears began to slip from her eyes down her cheeks. She turned her face away in a feeble attempt to hide them and she looked so broken, so dead. She would be soon enough. Ong wished he could comfort her, talk to her, anything but his orders were strict - no contact.

Hours passed. The girl - Maximum - sat in the corner again. It was as if she'd given up, the tears hadn't stopped yet; they stained the dirty white paper gown she was clothed in. Her heart monitors were slow, inconsistent. There wasn't any hope - she wasn't dieing from any physical ailment - and he knew it. She'd resigned herself, she'd quit hoping, quit trying. Her beautiful eyes slid closed on the tears and her lips parted. For what was undoubtedly the last time, she murmured, "Fang."

Ong watched, morbidly fascinated, as her heart rate slowed. An hour passed, then two. The irregular beeping of the monitor stopped for a long minute before restarting. The scientist bit his lip and, on a whim, reached over to turn off the recording camera. He felt he owed the girl at least that much, that she deserved some small measure of peace. Try as he might though, he couldn't stop himself watching; couldn't tear his eyes away from the dieing mutant.

The tears were gone, leaving dried tracks on her ghostly face. She didn't speak again, didn't open her eyes as the hours dragged into each other, blending and bluring into one timeless mass. Her shoulders finally stilled. The silence was deafening after the sharp beeping of the computer. A stray tear slipped down the man's cheek and for a long moment he was unable to move. Finally, he turned back to the document still open on his computer.

_At 10:15 hours subject expired. Cause of death is not physical. Suspect depression and exhaustion. Body will be removed for anatomical study._

Dr. J. F. Ong

**END REPORT**

**There you have it. Pretty lame huh? Yea. Honestly - I don't like this story. It was different in my head but isn't everything always? Also, I'm pretty ADD so I get an idea then I can't write it down but I'm rambling again. Okay. So. Thanks for those who have reviewed and given me advice :) And thanks to the one who told me I could post this as another chapter. I really liked this ending better. Less impossible. Seriously, how would the flock get her out? Jeez.**

**-A.**


End file.
